


5 Days of DenAme

by tootmyCanute



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: APH Rare Pair Week, Fluff, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Relationship(s), Teasing, non-canon name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootmyCanute/pseuds/tootmyCanute
Summary: Short stories of this pair surrounding five different themes. Made for APH rarepair week 2016





	1. Sports

Alfred was once told he was exceptionally rowdy throughout the football season. But of course he was rowdy! A man has to have an outlet and enjoy his hobbies. However, in short habitation with the five nordic countries during the Euro cup, he found that observation gravely exaggerated. 

He’d elected himself as the afternoon’s cook, and the others gathered in the tv room in heavy argument over a controversial penalty. He took clues where he could, seeing as they had long abandoned the courtesy of speaking english around him, and just attempted to identify familiar words. Yells in unison over a missed goal resonate through the house and those gruff nordic languages sound scarier than he’d like to admit. 

He pops in, what he believes is an equal compromise between american and scandinavian cuisine, into the oven and sits on the counter to pass time on his phone. He’s not the biggest fan of the sport. But while he can follow along just fine, he’s not self-centered enough to seek out attention during an occasion that’s not all about him. He knew it was Iceland’s team in the game. The youngest of the group, so all of them rooted for him with the pride and fierceness of a family of lions. A refreshing change of pace from his bickering commonwealth family, even if their merciless debates over who’s been throused in the cricket championship was a source of endless amusement.

He smiles, absorbed in a memory of a smug New Zealand, only to jump as a hand fell on his knee, nearly dropping his phone.

“What’re you up to all alone smiling like that?” Christen teased from beside him, curling his hand into his leg with a coy smile of his own.

“Nothing much. Thinking about how my folks are more divide and conquer when it comes to championships.” he shrugs, pocketing his phone to look back at the other four engrossed into the tv, “Just as loud, though.”

“Well, remember us as we are today. A match between each other is complete mayhem.”

“Between the most peaceful fivesome in the world? You don’t say.”

“We have to bare our teeth sometime.” The Dane slides his hand up to his thigh and rests it there, glancing between the busy oven and an idle Alfred. “Doesn’t look like it’ll be ready anytime soon, come watch with us,”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to match your energy in this, I can barely tell what’s going on.”

“‘I’ll give you the play-by-play. You can sit on my lap and I’ll tell you when to cheer.” 

The cheeky smile following that almost had Alfred ready to kiss it off his face. He cups the hand on his thigh and smirks with one corner of his mouth.

“You think the others won’t mind some shameless PDA during a big game?”

“It’s my house, they can pretend to ignore it,” Christen leans in against the counter, dragging his fingers along the skin of his forearm not breaking his gaze. “It’s not like I’ll just leave you stuck in the kitchen. Getting lonely.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, I don’t get lonely that easily.”

“Are you sure about that?” he lifts the hand cupping his own to his lips, giving Alfred’s fingers light pecks across the knuckles. “I look back and see you hunched over on your phone. When you should be sitting with me and grinding Berwald’s nerves over his loss from last week.”

Alfred huffs a laugh and moves to hop off the counter, only to halt as the Dane shifts in between his knees and wrap his arms around his hips, his smile now more gentle and less of an obvious flirt.

“You’re not upset I invited them during /our/ time, right?”

“Huh? Why would I be? It’s a really big soccer tournament, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’d hate to think you’re off bored and sulking because it’s not your manly american football,”

“Oh believe me, I’ll make you sit through that again soon. Commercials and all.” Alfred leans a forearm against Denmark’s shoulder, throwing him a wink to which the Dane chuckles light-heartedly. “This isn’t just our time though. It’s your time. Spend it with your family like you want to, I know they’re important to you. Trust me I’m not going anywhere.”

The other hums in agreement and loosens his hold, seemingly at peace with Alfred’s assurance. However, a tug at Alfred’s waist pulls him off the counter and against Christen’s chest in an intimate hold.

“You’re family now too, I want you where I am. Would that be asking too much?” The question only had one answer, and Alfred was happy to be at ease with being considered a close part of him now. He shakes his head and complies with a soft, chaste kiss tender enough for their eyes to flutter shut. He smiles into the kiss, helpless to break it as he hears the other four practically roar the success of the goal scored by their team.

“Alright. Let’s go see if they win this thing then, hm?” Alfred insists and holds his hand in his to lead them out of the kitchen. They smile warmly at each other, all inhibitions cleared in anticipation of a winning game.


	2. Dawn And Dusk

A cloudy Los Angeles morning never screams a good day in the summer and Alfred is grateful he has nowhere to be today. With it, no check in at customs and no worries on how he’ll beat the downtown traffic. Just yesterday’s leftovers and an endless stream of satellite TV to drown out the morning. Only that while it was a lazy morning here, half a world away, on the crowded old continent, the day was ending. Likely all business was done for the day and his boyfriend might possibly be available.

He parts his breakfast and lowers the TV to background noise levels before setting up a video chat on his couch, dressed in nothing but a tight cotton shirt and his night undies. A sparse couple of seconds pass as the call rings with no answer. Alfred rings for a second time, in hopes the other had just missed his call at the last second. He sadly deflates as the second call drops, morosely taking a bite into his breakfast sandwich.

But just a minute later, his call is returned. He answers giddily within the first ring.

“Hej, god morgen (good morning).” Christen, all freckles and warm smiles, is leaned in close to the screen in his bedroom, still dressed in his tan business suit. The window behind him hinted the last rays of sun just setting, as the day came to a close. “You called?”

“Yeah, hey. I called to know how your day went.” He adjusts the screen for a clearer angle of himself. Christen shrugs at his question.

“It was better than most days. Eventful but not too tiring. Are you just getting up?” Christen is gazing down into the screen, blue eyes so clear Alfred can almost see his own reflection looking back.

“Yeah, my day’s all free, so I thought I’d stay in.”

“I see,” He moves away from the laptop, shifting to the edge of his bed to unlace his shoes, “And you called only to ask how my day was?”

“Among other things,” Christen is then standing to shrug off his coat jacket, the hint of a smirk on his lips is not lost on Alfred, who’s intently observing from behind the screen.

“Things such as?” Denmark asked, now removing his tie with thick fingers.

“Watching you undress, for one,” He relaxes back into the couch, confident where this was headed as the other nation made no motions to stop stripping on camera. His hands expertly unbutton his shirt as if he was casually removing it in privacy. “And I definitely feel like I’ve scored with that.”

The nordic laughs behind the camera and gives the occasional glance towards it. Peeling his shirt off his shoulders and leaving himself clad in a white tank top and bare muscular arms, he takes the time to properly fold and store his shirt nearby as he moves off-screen. 

Alfred leans his chin on his palm, lips pouting as he patiently waits for Christen to return. Distracting himself by gaping at a room he already knows intimately and while he has no reason to find anything dubious in the Dane’s room, he looks to find everything relatively in place as his last visit. A fact that leaves him giddier than before. There’s a soft sound of drawers opening and then closing slowly shut. Gentle humming is heard from inside and Alfred can’t help but think it’s purposeful teasing as the screen remains void of his boyfriend.

“Hey, come back. I miss you.” he shifts again laying lower on the couch before scoffing his sandwich in his mouth for a good healthy bite.

Christen comes back on screen shortly after, tossing a new set of clothes onto his bed and chest now bare in all it’s built glory. Alfred momentarily forgets to chew the morsel in his mouth as his brows arch in interest, ogling the dusting of hair that ran from the Dane’s pecs down to his navel and cut off right at his waistband. An irresistible turn-on when it came to his likes concerning men. He groans low in his throat before swallowing the half-chewed bite in his mouth and follows the other with his eyes.

Christen looks into the camera, almost as if looking at Alfred himself and flashes the handsome smirk he’s known for. And Alfred does believe that did it in getting his blood rushing south. 

“What are you thinking?” It comes out of Christen gruffly. 

“That I should be in that room with you right now,”

Humming thoughtfully, he’s effortlessly peeled his socks off and now goes for the belt securing his pants. “What would you do?”

Alfred’s mouth goes dry as the belt slides ever so smoothly from his pants loops, leaving them to hang from his waist and reveal an inch or more of tempting happy trail. His eyes don’t shift from looking at the camera as he undoes the rest, letting his pants fall with an incredibly seductive roll of his hips.

“Fuck, what wouldn’t I do with you,” he coos at the sight of toned legs and the lewd outline through his briefs. He uncurls a finger from his fist, pointing it straight upwards while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, preparing the raunchiest monologue he can conjure. “I’d slam myself face first onto that wide hairy chest and just start licking up all that chest hair with my tongue and get your nipples between my teeth and then- wait… are you putting clothes back on?”

On cam Christen was chuckling in fits as he redressed into a new pair of jeans, trying to sport the most innocent of impressions he could. “I did mention I was leaving shortly to get a drink, didn’t I?”

“No, you totally left that part out while you were strip teasing me.” Alfred pouts again, his disapproving brow furrowing as Christen covers himself up with a grey v-neck while clearly amused. 

“In that case, I apologize. I didn’t mean to lead you on, skat (darling).”

“You totally did, those hips don’t lie,” Alfred huffs and chomps into his food again, “So, you’re just gonna go and get drunk without me?” he questions through a full mouth

“I’m meeting with Gilbert who’s there now. You know he can’t be left alone anywhere with alcohol.”

“Gilbert, huh? You put a stop to the cam sex to go hang out with Gilbert? You totally love him more than me,” he whines, while a fully dressed Denmark snorts a laugh.

“Actually, I love free beer more than you,” Alfred mocks a frown and crosses his arms in reply, “Only by a little, I promise.”

“Well, what am I to do now?” 

“Wait for me to get back. It’s still early in your time and it will still be dark when I come back,” He glance at his wristwatch, other hand storing his wallet in his backpocket. 

“Then don’t stay out too late. And don’t drink too much, make sure you can still bike home in one piece.”

“Yes, thank you, wife.”

Alfred sticks his tongue out at the other, who’s all mirth and giggles until he brushes the smirk off his face, giving Alfred a genuinely assuring smile.

“I’ll be back a little later, you can count on it. Hopefully, only a bit tipsy.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“You will, now blow me a kiss.” Alfred does so, and can’t help the smile tugging his lips as the Dane sends one in return.

“Have a safe night.”


	3. Water

Christen feels guilty making Alfred wait longer than necessary for him on a busy tourist street, but there’s a hint of pride in watching a fellow country gaze at the very heart of your city. The American loves modern things. Tall buildings and bright lights fascinate him, and while Denmark’s country stands proudly with historic buildings, the fast-paced development of green and urban projects are what set him apart from much of the world. He sees Nyhavn as a place in between, a meeting of old and new and, gladly, a spot he’s most known for. And he wonders if Alfred is charmed by the harbor. 

He’s leaning against the railing of the canal, for once neither on his phone or standing around uncomfortable in the unknown place. He is visibly at ease, with eyes on the architecture and the line of sailboats in view, and appears to be taking it all in. Not so much smiling, but pleasantly content admiring his surroundings.

Christen is standing outside a small bakery with pastries, hot and fresh for the both of them. He suspects he’s long past the reasonable time for shopping, but if catching Alfred in such a tranquil moment, with the breeze gently tossing his bangs, isn’t a rare treat then he’s not sure what is. The tense, fast-paced world they live in makes little time for moments like these.

Directly across the American’s side of the canal sits the former home of Hans Christian Andersen, a tall red townhouse identical to the ones beside it, but different in the knowledge of who owned it. Alfred glances at it time and again, eyes wide, discerning and from what Christen can see from this angle, alert. He wonders if he knows. Because while he does know the young nation is intelligent, not to mention clever and much more observant than he lets on, the history never seems to capture him as much as the unknown does. The past never appears to make an impact on him, but he’s drawn to discoveries. It’s initially scary, but it pleases him to know Alfred has more depth then he demonstrates. 

Below him the water reflects him hungrily eyeing the scenery, and Christen slowly approaches to watch him right in the moment when Alfred hears him coming.

He’s about three feet away when Alfred is pulled from his gaze. Slightly startled, but easily recovers with a smile as he nods his head in the other direction of the harbor.

“Say, I saw a canal tour on the way here. I’ve never been on one before, can we go?” he asks, as if Denmark would ever deny him a chance to explore more of his country. He offers his arm for the taking, beaming with approval and an erratic beating of his heart as the other takes him and winks his appreciation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very loosely related to its theme but I like character building ヽ(　￣д￣)ノ


	4. Culture

Christen brings him a flower crown this morning. A neat wreath of daisies and baby’s breath, that he insists is essential for the Midsummer spirit and that it suits his ‘summer blue’ eyes. Alfred adjusts it to tilt back a bit, but lets the garland stay because he’s never had the chance to wear one before. And it would be a rude gesture to waste the flowers he’s picked from his garden.

Upon getting to the beach, he’s vexed to find no one else similarly wearing a plant hat for the summer festivities, not even the girls. He nearly dumps his soda on the cackling Dane who piles on nothing but cheeky compliment after another, but keeps it on anyways. They still smell fresh from the garden and he likes the way Christen leans in to scent them when he gets distracted.

They join in with some college-aged youths for a pitfire barbecue with all sizes of sausage for the roasting. They all speak english to Alfred and he musters up some broken danish in reply when least expected. He’s proud to at least be able to use complete sentences and Denmark seems satisfied whenever he gives the effort.

They seek out a spot for themselves closer to the shore after. There’s tents and blankets set up all over the sand and no one gets in the water as families and groups of friends alike are busy stacking their celebratory bonfires and tying little handmade witch puppets to the stake. Alfred wants to come out and say it’s weird, and just about as destructive as a fireworks display. However, Christen starts to set up his own fire pyre, stacking up logs like a game of Jenga and powerless but to ‘be an accomplice to the pyromaniac holiday of celebrating the pagan gods and spooking evil spirits’ as he eloquently puts it, stacking the last log and then twisting open a pair of beers for the both of them. Alfred agrees to take part, but only if he got to prop up the witch of the west to the pyre.

By mid-afternoon they’re chowing down on every manner of greasy snack known to the country, and/or whatever was available in the cooler. They’ve gone through a whole six-pack that have cleared their inhibitions about dancing wildly in public. They trip over each other in the sand, inconspicuously half-drunk, and complain as the sand runs up into their shorts. 

Finally settling their sandy asses down on the picnic cloth, nearby they notice a drum circle gather. Among them, there’s a number of drum players and a few girls in flowy skirts start to dance around the center. They attempt to sing, what he can only guess is a ballad, in tune with each other but Alfred wants to laugh as they never manage to match up. Christen smiles and watches them anyway, humming along softly like he already knows this song.

The sun starts to set and all the unlit pyres begin to go up in flames. Alfred feels sly enough to sneak Christen’s lighter from his back pocket and light it himself. And he finds out it’s hard to steal from a former viking as he’s tackled into the sand by the taller blonde, engaging in a quick tussle over the lighter like smiling, wrestling children. They roll a bit in the sand, pressed closely to one another before faltering into fits of laughter.

They agree to light it together before helping each other to their feet and kicking up sand. Alfred notices in their roughhousing that they rolled all over his flower crown. The wreath flattened and came apart, flowers scattering and flying into the nearby bonfires lit by other Danes. He mutters a ‘sorry’ as Christen picks up the remnants of the flower crown and combs through it to pluck an intact daisy from the underside. 

Alfred can hardly keep from smiling as Christen approaches with the flower, sporting a similar smile as he tucks the daisy over his ear. There’s only so much affection Alfred can take in public before he is flushed deep red, combing the weight of his bangs to keep the daisy in place.

They at last kneel at the foot of their unlit bonfire to set it alight. It proves tricky when the breeze keeps blowing the lighter’s flame out, and they have to shield it with their hands to get it to light the wood. It goes out a few times but on the third try, and following some intense blowing, the wood finally catches fire and both start to hop around in victory. They settle down shortly and watch as the flames grow around the logs, waiting a patient few minutes for the little witch doll to become completely engulfed in fire. 

Christen claps his hands together and announces Midsummer completed, however Alfred balks at that and insists otherwise with crossed arms. Christen stares at him like he’s not sure if he’s serious and if they really forgot something. 

‘You did forget something!’ he protests. Christen must not see what he’s missed out because then Alfred has to grab the collar of his shirt and bring him closer, eyeing him with fervor and taking him by surprise with a sudden open mouth kiss that would draw even adults to gape. 

They’re both aglow and in each other’s arms in seconds, warmed by the bonfire and the heat in their chests. The daisy is knocked out of his hair by the wind and it flies out somewhere into the sea. Christen breaks their kiss to sigh wistfully, thanking the American for being with him and tenderly brushes a hand through his bangs promising to make him another one next year. Alfred beams. With a sigh of his own, he embraces Christen tightly. They’re soon on the sand again. Gazing at the summer solstice elapse into a warm night of heated kisses and tender words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't know anything about midsummer, but I like beach parties, flower crowns and drum circles and Denmark is 60% beach so there you go ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ


	5. Refreshments

A typical summer’s day brought with it heavy rains, the fresh scent of wet pine infused with freshly brewed coffee, and a fussy boyfriend agitated that his plans are ruined and that all’s wrong in the world. It feels like home to Christen, who’s perfectly accustomed to fussy people. And if there was any cure when it came to said fussy people, Christen would say a hot cup of coffee clears it right up.

He makes it how the American likes it. Extra cream, extra sugar and a drop of hazelnut all mixed into the snoopy mug he always drinks from when he’s over and brought on a saucer because it makes him feel much more fancy. And it’s a simple enough request that Denmark has learned it by heart.

Christen brings both the cure and his own cup of espresso to the nest of blankets and pillows they’ve built in the living room. Alfred lays strewn across as he gazes outside. The patio door was wide open to let in the breeze, curtains flowing up in the open space and the view of his garden basked in the rain made for a relaxing image. He goes to join the younger nation, offering his mug before laying out beside him.

Alfred inspects his coffee before blowing it cooler and taking a small sip, eyes still held on the scene outside. His tongue darting out to taste the drop left on his lip satisfies Christen, taking a sip of his own in confidence this will perk the american right up.

Alfred breathes sharply out of his nose right then and Christen peers at him curiously. All pout and low-brow, he hesitates a moment in silence. Before suddenly easing back against the Dane’s chest, nursing his mug so as not to spill, with his head resting against Christen’s shoulder. 

If the smaller nation didn’t know better, this called for cuddling. In their pillowy nest on a rainy day. He fulfills the silent request, wrapping his non-coffee holding arm around him and presses him closer into his chest. Their thin sweaters were just thick enough to barrier the feeling of skin on skin and Christen laments that, but that sort of cuddling was for later.

Alfred lets up on his pouting and takes another taste of his coffee, visibly much less irritable now. The calm moment washes over them and Christen feels content with the warmth and weight of the other on him having been pacified.

“This is the perfect meaning of hygge.” he murmurs laying his head on Alfred’s.

“What’s hoo-ga?”

“Hy-gge. It’s a term we have. It would mean cosiness in english, but it’s more than that to us.”

“Hmm, you mean like that feeling you get of being all warm inside and getting goosebumps? Cause that’s how I feel right now.”

“That’s part of it, yes. Feeling a safe and comfortable state of wellbeing is true hygge.”

The words set in in silence for a moment as they drink their coffee and listen to the pit-pat of the rain. Before Alfred shifts to better face Christen, a content smile gracing his face now as he leans up to kiss coffee-lined lips.

“That’s weird. Because I mostly feel that way around you,” he says against Denmark’s parted lips, who’s happy to reciprocate with a kiss of his own. They exchange the taste of their mouths with generous flicks at the other’s tongue. All consuming and coffee-flavored as they groan quietly against each other and Alfred is the first to break with a smile and a quick sip of his coffee, “And I think… that’s what love feels like.”

“Hygge can mean love too.”

“In that case,” he lies flush against the Dane, calmed and relaxed in his arms as the rain begins to fade outside and welcome the light of the sun, “I hygge you very much, Christen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)


End file.
